


Running From Something Larger Than Yourself

by generalekenobi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: CommanderFoxWeek, Espionage, Force-sensitive Fox, M/M, No Beta We Die Like Clones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25206373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalekenobi/pseuds/generalekenobi
Summary: “Howam I force-sensitive, how do I control it, and what is going on with my bond with Vos?” Fox asks, a little bit of his desperation bleeding into his voice as he white-knuckles his grip on his helmet. Kenobi strokes his beard, Ti and Koon seem to share a glance, and Yoda settles in his chair.“Works in mysterious ways, the Force does. Through all of us does it flow, so likely it is that you have always been force-sensitive. Perhaps share the same connection, some of your siblings do. A… difficult question, control is. Work their entire life a Jedi does, to keep control. Ask for help from Vos perhaps, when undercover.” Yoda suggests, and Fox has to resist the urge to stamp in frustration. He just wants things to go back to how they used to be!“Rare indeed, is the bond you share with Vos. A dyad in the Force, you two are,” Yoda states, and after a moment of complete silence, all of the Jedi erupt at once.Or: Fox is force-sensitive, Palpatine is the Sith Lord, and Quinlan Vos is too damn charming for his own good.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-1010 | Fox & Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, CC-1010 | Fox/Quinlan Vos
Comments: 16
Kudos: 198





	Running From Something Larger Than Yourself

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Physical abuse  
> This is for day 6 of CommanderFoxWeek and combines the prompts of both magic (loosely) and phantom pains (very loosely). This is apparently gonna be a longfic because my brain won't shut the fuck up about it. I like to write longfics out entirely before posting to make sure I finish, so we're going in blind on this one, folks. Updates will be _very_ sporadic, because I'm trying to finish a currently 38k codywan longfic that is my baby and takes precedence, and I'm also planning on writing for codywan week.
> 
> The title is from Richard Siken's poem Driving, Not Washing, because re-reading it made me think abt what would happen if Fox and Quinlan discovered the truth abt Palpatine but couldn't show their hand too soon.

Quinlan Vos is unlike any Jedi Fox has ever met. He’s brazen above everything else, what with his sleeveless, wrinkled Jedi robes, his cocky grin that spells trouble, and the way he looks Fox up and down like he's anything other than a clone - he's not exactly the peak of Jedi stoicism. How Kenobi became friends with him, Fox will never know.

"Quinlan Vos. Nice to meetcha," Vos says, throwing his hand out for Fox to shake. Fox flinches, but covers it up well by taking Vos's hand and giving it a firm shake. 

"Commander CC-1010, at your service… though, most call me Fox," Fox replies, tacking on his name when Vos's smile dims as he gives his designation. His smile returns and is near blinding, and Fox wonders how one person can manage to be that chipper.

"So, Obi-Wan tells me you have a little memory problem?" Vos asks as they begin to walk around the barracks. They garner a few curious stares from brothers, but all of them are fleeting.

Fox swallows.

"Yes. And, when I have these… blackouts, I find… I find myself injured, afterwards. It’s manageable, but my brothers, they weren’t happy when they found out about it,” Fox says awkwardly. Stone had found out first, and informed Thire, who informed Thorn, who snitched on him to his batchmate Rex, and it got around to Cody who showed up on his doorstep to stage an intervention. Really, it was more annoying than anything else. He was managing. He only started getting… upset when he discovered the scars.

Rather than pity him, Vos just nods and meets his gaze.

“Alright. I can help you,” he tells Fox.

“Thank you. What… what exactly are you going to do? General Kenobi wasn’t very forthcoming with the details,” Fox says. Vos rolls his eyes.

“Of course he wasn’t, he was probably worried about outing my little secret. I have this… talent, called psychometry. It means when I touch things, I can sense an echo of the object's history through the Force,” he explains, and Fox nods. “It can extend to people. I should be able to sense your memories of the events, if you’ve blocked them off subconsciously,” Vos says and Fox frowns beneath his helmet.

“What do you mean, subconsciously? Do you think _I’m_ the reason I can’t remember?” Fox asks. Quinlan shrugs.

“The brain can do strange things when exposed to trauma. You wouldn’t be the first, and there’s no shame in it. You do what you have to do in order to survive,” Vos says, and Fox relaxes a bit. If he himself is to blame, at least Vos won’t ridicule him over it.

The pair reach Fox’s private quarters, and Fox inputs his code, stepping back to let Vos enter first, which he does after raising a brow at Fox’s deference.

His room is spotless, not a thing out of place. His cot is made, his closet is organized and shut, his holobooks and scavenged old tomes are organized alphabetically on his salvaged shelf, and his floor is clean enough to eat off of. Vos stares before shaking his head.

“Glad we didn’t do this in my quarters, they’re a mess,” he mutters, sitting down on the cot which is the sole piece of furniture in the room. He looks at Fox. “So… are you going to take your helmet off, or…? I only ask because direct skin-to-skin contact makes things a lot easier,” he explains, and Fox hesitantly reaches up and eases his helmet off, making sure not to jostle his still sore nose. Looking at Vos reveals that the Jedi is distressed, to say the least.

“These are fresh,” he says, looking at the bruises that even bacta couldn’t heal with just one application. Fox shakes his head, realizing that the Jedi thinks he’d been beaten to hell and back by his abuser. He feels a sardonic smile on his lips.

“No, I got in a fight with a common thief while out of uniform last night and nearly got my ass handed to me. I remember these, though I wish I didn’t,” Fox says, sitting next to Vos and making sure to leave a comfortable amount of space between them. Vos seems put at ease. 

“Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Anyways, do you remember where your first injury was?” Vos asks, and Fox’s shoulders slump. He really didn’t want this jetii in his head, but Cody will kill him if he backs out. So will Thorn and Rex, for that matter. Fox pulls down the neck of his black, exposing his throat.

“Here. A bruise, encircling my throat. It was too perfect to be rope, ligature marks are never so uniform,” he says, and Vos nods before reaching his hand towards him. Fox does a good job of not flinching, but Vos still hesitates.

“Can I?” he asks, and though surprised by his consideration, Fox nods. Vos closes his eyes, places one hand around the side of Fox’s neck, and gently rests the other on Fox’s temple. There’s… something, when they connect, like an electric shock, but muffled. Fox doesn’t know what it is, and he doesn’t like it. Vos frowns.

“There’s barriers in your head, shields, actually. They’re so subtle I wouldn’t know they were there if I wasn’t looking. I think they’re interwoven with your force-signature, very delicate work. It’s… blocking my connection to the memories,” Vos says, which is a bunch of mumbo-jumbo to Fox. Vos opens his eyes, and his brows are scrunched together.

“You aren’t force-sensitive, so you couldn’t have made them. Theoretically, since you have no hand in them, punching through them shouldn’t hurt you. Do I have your permission?” Vos asks Fox, and he realises in that moment that he might be making a very big mistake. He knows the mind is a delicate thing, and he could be screwing himself over by agreeing. Fox nods after a long moment. He doesn’t really trust Vos, but if he’s asking permission, he can’t be that bad of a guy.

“I’m… tired of not knowing. You have my full consent.”

Vos nods and closes his eyes again. His eyes stay closed for a long while, and Fox closes his as well, trying to focus on feeling the man rooting around in his head. He actually thinks he feels something click when Quinlan gasps.

Fox feels a jolt, and he’s no longer sitting on his bunk in his room, he’s entering the Chancellor’s office unannounced. When he steps in, the first thing he notices is the cloaked form of Count Dooku on the holoprojector. It isn’t footage of the front lines or enemy propaganda, _he’s having a conversation with the Chancellor of the kriffing Republic_. Fox freezes as Palpatine’s yellow, sickly gaze bores into him, and he, for the first time in his life, knows what true terror is. Kamino, Geonosis, the Senate? Nothing he’s ever been through is as terrifying as the Chancellor in that moment.

“I will call you back,” Palpatine addresses the Count and jams the end call button. Fox tries to move, but _can’t_ . He’s stuck frozen where he’s standing, and something clamps down on his throat, hard. He tries to pull it off, but there isn’t anything there. He can hear his blood rush in his ears as his lungs burn. Palpatine walks towards him at a leisurely rate, as if he’s taking a stroll in the gardens. Fox strains, desperate for air as he _pushes_ against Palpatine. He will _not_ die and leave a madman in charge of the Republic. The grasp on his throat lessens slightly, allowing him a gasp of air before it falls away between one heartbeat and the next, leaving him with spotty vision, collapsed on the ground in a quivering heap. His neck throbs.

“Interesting,” Palpatine mutters. “For a clone of a force-null, you are strong with the Force. Dormant, but strong,” he says, and it’s so absurd that even on the heels of uncovering treason of the highest order, Fox can’t help the incredulous ‘What?’ that escapes his blue lips. He _can’t_ be - clones aren’t force-sensitive! Palpatine’s disturbing eyes glint and he takes a step towards Fox, who finds himself frozen to the spot once more.

“Yes, Commander. I was going to kill you, but… hmmm. No, I have something much more… interesting in store for you, I think,” he says, reaching his hand out and touching Fox’s temple before the world explodes in white.

Fox scrambles back, clumsily falling off of the bed. He heaves deep breaths, still able to feel the phantom grip on his neck, the sensation of Palpatine digging into his brain. He swallows and his throat is still scratchy. Everything’s too much, it’s like the flashback dialed all of Fox’s senses up to eleven. He can feel the durasteel floor vibrating under his feet from the traffic outside, he can smell the stench of sweat and fear and disinfectant in the air, he can see the splotches of light from the window cast his room in stark detail, he can hear Vos talking to him over the drum of his heartbeat, the rumble of his voice meaning nothing in his ears.

He stares at Quinlan, who's crouched on the ground in front of him, holding his arms out in a placating manner and speaking in gentle tones. Fox does his best to shut out everything and focus in on Vos, but he keeps getting distracted by the floor still vibrating under his feet, and by just how bright the man is. He can feel the warmth on his skin, and he knows that whatever this is, it is _far_ from normal.

“... Easy, Fox. You’re alright. You’re alright, Commander. I’m right here, try and focus on my voice. That’s it, that’s it…” Quinlan says, and Fox would snap at him for being patronizing if it wasn’t helping him so much. Gradually, the floor stops vibrating, but he still winces at just how much everything else is.

“Are you back with me?” Vos adds, and Fox nods. Vos sits on the ground, appearing drained and just as bewildered as Fox is. First things first, though. They achieved their goal, even if it did fuck him up something awful.

“The Chancellor. He’s the one who was doing it. _And_ he’s a dar’jetii,” Fox says. Quinlan stares at him a moment before nodding.

“Only a dark sider would use the Force to choke you like that, and the control that he shows means… means that the Chancellor is the Sith Lord. Fuck. _Fuck._ Holy karking shit,” Quinlan says, rubbing his eyes with his hands. Fox seconds that sentiment. He lets out a strangled laugh at how messed up everything is. Speaking of that…

“Hey, Vos? What the Corellian hells is wrong with me? Why did I… why is everything so much right now?” Fox asks, praying that he’s being coherent enough for Vos to understand. Vos looks at him, really studies him, and Fox gets a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“The Chancellor was right. You’re force-sensitive. What you feel is how force-sensitives experience the world, because you are one,” Vos tells him, and he just stares. Surely, he can’t be serious. He’d thought the Chancellor was lying, because that’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard.

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. I can’t be like you, I’m- I’m a clone! I’ve never shown any symptoms before!” Fox says, and Vos shakes his head.

“Not everyone has big displays of power. Some people just have heightened reflexes, or gut feelings, or luck,” Vos counters, and Fox lets his head thunk back against the wall. He’s always been quick, but he just put that down to his training regime being more difficult than CT training on Kamino. And Fox’s gut has never steered him wrong. Lucky, though? No, he has the worst luck in the galaxy if going by his recent life events.

“I suppose… I may have shown some of those signs, but why now? Why not back on Kamino, or Geonosis? Why did my… ‘powers’ show up only now?” Fox pleads, needing answers. Vos sighs.

“Maybe because you’ve never been up against a Force user until now, I can’t really say. People outside of the Order have been known to have awakenings, later in life. I think this is yours, judging by the way you shook the room and formed a force-bond with me,” Vos explains, and Fox cuts him off.

“I did _what_ to the room? And what the _fuck_ is a force-bond?” Fox asks. He thought he was just hypersensitive, not able to do whatever the hell he just did. Vos sighs before standing and offering Fox a hand up. After a moment, Fox takes it.

“You shook the room. I was afraid you were gonna break something, which is why I tried to calm you down. And a force-bond is just what it sounds like - a connection of two people through the Force,” Vos explains. Fox just stares at him, and Vos leads him back over to the bed, where Fox eases off of his shaky legs to sit back down.

“Here, close your eyes,” Vos instructs, and after looking at him with suspicion, he complies. “Feel your own presence in the Force - the warm glow in your chest,” Vos instructs, and rather than tell him how stupid that sounds, Fox complies. He does feel… warm. Vast. Hot.

“Do you have it?”

“Yes,” Fox answers.

“Good. That’s your connection to the Force. Now, it might be harder for you to pick up on mine-”

“No, I have it,” Fox cuts him off, focusing on the heat and the bright warmth he can feel bleeding off of Vos, making everything else seem cold and drab in comparison. It’s not as light as his own, more like the flickering light from a campfire, rather than the steady light of the sun. The Kiffar doesn’t respond for a beat.

“Oh, wow, okay. That was quick. Well, try and feel for a connection between up, linking my force-signature to yours. Think of it like a rope. Start from your end,” Vos instructs, and Fox does as he’s told. When he looks inside himself for a rope, he finds none. Instead, he finds something more akin to an iron chain. Intrigued, he imagines poking it, and gasps.

 _I need to tell the Council, firstly. Then- wait, what the fuck? Are you in my head?!_ Fox hears, feels discomfort that isn’t his own, and he lets go of the chain, bewildered. His eyes flick open and he finds his own incredulity mirrored in Vos’s face.

“I was in your head. I heard you thinking about the Council. I _felt_ your discomfort. What… that’s not normal, is it?” Fox asks, and Vos slowly shakes his head, never dropping Fox’s gaze.

“Not even my force-bond with Aayla was like that. We could send emotions and ideas to each other, but never concrete words, and we could never just… peek into each other's heads like that,” Quinlan says, and Fox pinches the bridge of his sore nose. He is so out of his depth it isn’t even funny.

“We need help,” Fox tells him, point blank, and Vos nods, already pulling his holocomm out.

“I have… frankly no idea what’s going. All I know is that Palpatine is a Sith, you’re Force sensitive, and now that I’m looking for it, our force-signatures are strongly linked. We need the Council.”

* * *

Fox does his best to stride into the Council chambers as if he belongs there, even though he most certainly does not.

Kenobi is present, as is Yoda, Shaak Ti, and a man he knows only by reputation - Plo Koon. Fox comes to stand next to Vos, helmet under one arm, and feels naked without it, his bruised and battered face on display. Vos must pick up on his nervousness, because he does _something_ through their force-bond that feels equivalent to a friendly bumping of shoulders. It was likely intended to calm his nerves, but it does the opposite because he isn’t _supposed_ to be force-sensitive, and that just serves as a reminder.

“Informed us of the recent events, Master Vos has. Interested are we in your perspective,” Yoda tells him. Fox nods and goes about regurgitating everything that occurred that morning, down to the little details of how his own Force signature felt, and the alarm he experienced at… everything, really. Yoda nods as he finishes, but Kenobi pipes up.

“Thank you, Commander Fox. We are _greatly_ alarmed at the identity of the Sith Lord, and are grateful to you for bringing this to our attention, inadvertently though it may have been. We are also sorry that you have faced such abuse at his hands, and extend our invitation for you to see the temple mindhealers,” he says, and Fox nods graciously, even as he has no intention of taking him up on his offer. 

"Your Force signature is indeed different from when you and I spoke this morning. You and Quinlan… you share an unmistakably strong bond. I fear Palpatine will undoubtedly notice, and considering you factor into his plans somehow, I doubt he will be gracious. The shields Quin sensed around your memories have been cracked, for lack of a better term, and we fear how he will react when he finds obvious Jedi involvement," Kenobi tells him, regret laced in his voice. Fox does not outwardly react, but he gets a sinking feeling in his gut. He meets with Palpatine at least weekly, so he has less than a week to live. He stands tall, opening his mouth to ask that Thorn be made his replacement, if possible, when Vos interrupts.

"We can't let that happen. There has to be something we can do," he says. Fox bites his tongue. Kenobi shares a look with Plo Koon before nodding.

"Quin, uh, Master Vos is right - We wish to keep you from harm, Commander," he says, and Fox furrows his brows. 

“How? How can you expect to shield me from him? I make weekly reports to him in person… and now that I’m thinking about it, I can’t remember most of them,” Fox says, nearly muttering the last part.

“Have you ever been on an undercover mission?” Plo Koon asks him. Fox slowly shakes his head, not seeing the angle they’re playing at. Plo Koon looks to Vos, who seems to catch on, nodding.

“Master Vos is a Jedi Shadow - think of him as an undercover operative. If we imply that you’ve been embroiled in some urgent matter of galactic security, you and Quinlan can go undercover,” Plo Koon explains, and Fox’s frown deepens.

“How does that help us?” Fox asks, and Kenobi sighs.

“We wish to overthrow the Chancellor, but we have no proof of him committing any crimes. If we rush in, it may appear as if we are holding a coup.” Kenobi explains, and Fox gets a sinking feeling.

“You need us to find proof, without alerting the Chancellor.” Fox states, and Kenobi nods. Ti clears her throat.

“We could put you undercover with Quinlan, allowing us to buy you some time and keep you away from him. Morally, it is our duty to protect you, but we also fear what Palpatine has planned for you, and how that may impact us all,” Ti says, and Fox pinches the bridge of his nose before he remembers that his face is a painful mess

“But what do we tell Palpatine?” Fox asks, and the Jedi are silent for a moment.

“Any problems are there in the Guard?” Yoda asks. “Value his Guard, Palpatine does, and perhaps would grant you leave to fix things.” Fox pauses, frowning. His mind immediately goes to the missing vode.

“We’ve had five Guards go missing on their rounds of the lower levels in the last three months,” Fox says. There wasn’t a trace, and nobody seemed to care, aside from the Guard themselves.

“Disturbing, this is. Hmm… if ran into the perpetrator you did, and received the wounds you have now, would Palpatine give you leave to go undercover, both to grant you safety and allow you to investigate?” Yoda asks. Fox shuffles nervously. Does Palpatine care enough about his well-being to let him abandon his post for a fanciful undercover mission? He… he doesn’t know. It’s their only choice, though, if they are to buy him enough time to uncover Palpatine’s treachery. Fox swallows and stands tall.

“I don’t know. It’s the only chance I have, though, so I’m willing to try,” he states, and Vos prods him through their bond again. Awkwardly, he prods back. It raises another question, though. The councilors are speaking among themselves when he speaks up.

“I do have a few more questions, before we make the call.”

The Jedi council turns to face him as one.

“ _How_ am I force-sensitive, how do I control it, and what is going on with my bond with Vos?” Fox asks, a little bit of his desperation bleeding into his voice as he white-knuckles his grip on his helmet. Kenobi strokes his beard, Ti and Koon seem to share a glance, and Yoda settles in his chair.

“Works in mysterious ways, the Force does. Through all of us does it flow, so likely it is that you have always been force-sensitive. Perhaps share the same connection, some of your siblings do. A… difficult question, control is. Work their entire life a Jedi does, to keep control. Ask for help from Vos perhaps, when undercover.” Yoda suggests, and Fox has to resist the urge to stamp in frustration. He just wants things to go back to how they used to be!

“Rare indeed, is the bond you share with Vos. A dyad in the Force, you two are,” Yoda states, and after a moment of complete silence, all of the Jedi erupt at once.

“How can we be sure of this?” Koon asks.

“Master, I disagree,” says Ti.

“A dyad? After this long without record of one? I didn’t think it possible,” Kenobi exclaims, looking faint.

“What the hell do you mean, we’re a dyad? I barely know him!” Vos shots into the chaos. Whatever a dyad is, Fox wants _no_ part of it. Yoda taps his gimer stick, cutting through the noise and outrage and calling for peace.

“Sure of this, I am. Does the Force not ring true? Do they not appear entwined? And possible it is, Kenobi. Share a similar bond with young Skywalker, you do,” he says, and Kenobi appears speechless. Yoda taps his gimer stick again, before chaos can erupt once more. “The point, your bond with Skywalker is not.” Yoda turns his wizened gaze back to Fox.

“A sacred bond in the Force, a dyad is - forged between two beings who are deeply attached. Rare in the Order, dyads are. Easy to navigate, attachment is not. Manage, some Jedi do - fight as two halves to one whole, Obi-Wan and Anakin do. Brothers in the Force, twins almost, they are. Unheard of, is a bond between strangers. The will of the Force, this is,” Yoda says, and Fox feels even more lost. He doesn’t even have to look at Vos to sense his bafflement through their bond. Fox briefly closes his eyes and takes a breath, centering himself. When he opens them, he finds all of the council looking at him.

“That almost raises more questions than it answers, but thank you,” he says, and Yoda _laughs_. It’s strange. The old Jedi sobers, though.

“Make your call soon, you must. Accompany you, Obi-Wan and Master Vos will,” he says before taping his gimer stick one final time and getting up. The other council members follow suit. Vos nudges him, earning a glare and placing his hands up innocently. Fox rolls his eyes and walks over to Kenobi.

“General,” he greets, and Kenobi sighs.

“I have to say, I didn’t expect this to turn out this way. I’m sorry for everything you’ve gone through, and right under our noses, at that, ” he says, and Fox can’t do any more than nod at that. Obi-Wan sighs again.

“Palpatine already… likely hates my guts, considering how many plans of his I have wittingly and unwittingly thwarted, so I will spearhead this. Do you agree, Quinlan?” He asks, and Vos shrugs.

“Whatever you think is best, boss. I’m just along for the damn ride at this point,” he says, crossing his toned arms. Fox tries not to stare at them, because it it _not_ the time.

“Alright then, gentlemen,” Kenobi says. “Let’s go lie to the Chancellor of the Republic.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have ZERO plan abt where I'm taking the di'kutla dyad, so this fic is gonna be a piping hot mess. Follow my tumblr @/generalekenobi for star wars content and fic updates.


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